Untitled Lieutenant Duckling Fic That I've Been Writing On Tumblr
by nummy12345
Summary: Lieutenant Duckling fic that I've been writing on Tumblr since November 2013. They bicker a lot and hate each other... except they don't. I am awful at descriptions. This so far takes place over the span of five years. It can be super fluffy and super angsty. If you like Lieutenant Duckling try it out. Oh one more thing: Emma curses a lot.
1. Chapter 1

I uploaded this from my Tumblr at the request of a very kind anon. It's a Lieutenant Duckling story that I've been writing on my Tumblr since November. The story starts when Emma is 16. I'm bad at descriptions. Enjoy.

* * *

"If we get caught I'm done for. I'm fairly certain my father will kill you."

The young Prince chuckled as he brought the amber bottle to his lips. He took a quick swig before offering the drink to Emma. She had never drunk alcohol. Her mother rigidly opposed it, more than likely the reason being she was barely 16. "Yes, I'm sure you're right. But I believe it's worth taking the risk." He tilted his head and gently shook the bottle. Emma tried, and subsequently failed to repress a giggle.

"Sure, why not." Kissing caution to the wind she wrapped her fingers around the cool glass neck and puckered it up to her lips. The Princess briefly paused when she caught Philip's goofy smile in the corner of her eye. _It's stuff like this that had my parents order a ship from the royal navy to escort me home from King Stefan's soiree_, she mused as the amber liquid burned down her throat. Emma coughed from the foreign taste. "Good Gods, you like this stuff? How can anyone want to drink this?" He shrugged his shoulders before taking the bottle back. "It grows on you."

Philip had asked Emma to follow him below deck to where the Jewel of the Realm stored its cargo. It was a considerably dark room. The faint flicker of a candle was the solitary light between them. Emma detested how the musty air of the room was making her lungs sting. They had already started to ache for the familiar sea breeze.

The Prince raised the bottle to his lips and lingered a moment. "I'm glad you joined me for good company, Emma." She shivered at his words. Thank the Gods for this shadowy room, because if he could see her face she'd want to cast herself overboard. His eyes settled on her. _Say something, Emma. Anything._ "Me too." She stammered out.

Being alone in a dark room with the boy she was sure she liked felt utterly embarrassing. It really wasn't exciting or anything like she'd imagined it to feel. The countless romance novels she had read never mentioned feeling awkward.

"So what did you do?" Emma blinked at the question. Philip handed her back the bottle, and she took another short sip. "What do you mean?" She asked. The Prince moved his hand towards the ceiling and lazily glanced up. "Why the constant need of an escort?"

"Oh." She nervously smiled. "That- here's the thing, I'm not exactly the most behaved Princess." She air quoted the word with her fingers. He chuckled softly nodding in agreement. "On top of that, there are threats from King George, and my grandmother, uh, the Evil Queen." Philip hummed as he contemplated what she said. "If it's not the navy it's the castle guards. I'm never alone. King Stefan's kingdom was easiest to get to by ship so-"

Emma fiddled with a lock of her hair. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks. Was it the alcohol? Did alcohol do that? It was far too dark, but she swore she saw him move closer. Did he? Everything felt warm and fuzzy and tingly and pink. Yes, pink. _How can you feel pink, Emma?_ His arm brushed against hers, and she twitched. He was close, really close now, and she couldn't shake the heavy sensation she felt in her stomach. Was he leaning toward her face? Did he aspire to kiss her? She'd never kissed anyone before. Is that what she wanted to happen?

"Can I have that?" She apprehensively pointed towards the bottle. Philip smirked and shook it. "It's empty." Emma inhaled sharply. "Oh." The Prince arched an eyebrow high in amusement. Emma was completely flustered. "Are you alright?" He asked.

"Fine." She shrugged her shoulders. "But uh, well, my cheeks burn." Philip threw back his head and rolled with laughter. Her lips thinned; Emma felt like an idiot. She hated feeling like an idiot. Scrunching her nose she shoved him. He lifted his hands playfully signaling for her that he'd stop."What's so funny?" White hot light emanated from the depths of her narrowed eyes. Philip whistled before running his fingers through his chestnut hair. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't laugh at you. It's just that- well, it was adorable." Her breath hitched in her throat. "You're adorable, Emma."

Slowly his hand moved to her arm; he lightly dragged his fingers over her skin. It sent little shockwaves as he traced downward. Emma's breath was stagnant. What was he doing? Why was he touching her that way, and why did she feel so weird about it? His hand came to rest on her knee, and she abruptly bent back. He clasped at the thin fabric of her dress using it to draw her closer. Suddenly she craved distance. Her brain warned that if she didn't get it she was in for something -a kiss- she was not really willing or ready to have.

"Don't." There was urgency in her voice. He blinked before a look of dread washed over his features. "Emma, I'm sorry. Forgive me. I shouldn't-"

The Prince paused as the door creaked open and a gust of fresh air swept through the dank space. Trickles of faint light pushed through the darkness from the entryway. It briefly blinded her. Shielding her eyes with her forearm, she focused to see who'd found them. _Oh no-_

"Princess? Whatever are you-" He went silent once he noticed the Prince next to her. A peculiar emotion flashed briefly in his eyes, but it was far too dark for her to catch what it was. Emma's mouth gaped open; she couldn't muster any kind of sound. Of course, it had to be HIM who discovered her. His eyes traveled from Philip, to his hand on Emma's knee, and then back to the Prince's face. Stomping forward he reached for the hilt of his sword. "What the bloody hell is this?"

"Lieutenant-" Emma caught the trail of his eyes and gasped as she realized that Philip's hand was still on her knee. "Oh Gods!" She promptly threw it off and scooted back till her head smacked against something solid. She winced before clutching the bridge of her nose and pinching it hard. The dull ache from the back of her head throbbed. She could hear Philip's strained voice attempting to explain that they were only drinking. "Nothing happened!" Philip clearly had no idea whom he was speaking with. Emma groaned. She could already imagine her father wringing his hands around Philip's neck.

"Your Highness," the lieutenant's voice was rigid. She cautiously peered up to meet his blue eyes. She sucked in a breath and held it. "Get out!"

"Excuse me?" Philip jumped in front of the hot-headed navy officer. An overwhelming melody of emotions flooded his face. "That is your Princess you're talking to in such an improper way! Who the hell do you think you are?" The sailor mocked a bow. "Lieutenant Killian Jones, Your Highness. What a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. I see that you are enjoying your journey so far."

The lieutenant pushed past the Prince and hovered above Emma with his arms folded. She waited for the lecture to come, but it didn't. His eyes drilled into her, and she absentmindedly tugged both her lips into her mouth. "Well?" He motioned his arm towards the door, and Emma scrunched her nose; she stood up. He followed closely behind as Emma stumbled her way toward the exit blowing out a wide breath.

Emma caught a glimpse of Philip who head was drooped down. Lieutenant Jones rolled on his heels to confront the Prince once Emma was out of the cargo hold. "You." He pointed. "We will deal with your discrepancy later." Emma dragged both her hands over her face and moaned as he pushed the ornamented door shut.

"What are you doing?" She hissed. "My job." He flatly replied as he escorted Emma down the narrow pathway. She frowned. "You just humiliated me!" Annoyance flashed across her face. She lifted her head to meet his gaze; tension stored between her shoulders as she balled her hands into fists. "Go away, Lieutenant! Are you really going to follow me back to my quarters?" Emma scowled. "Indeed." He formally replied. She sighed and rubbed her temples. Wonderful.


	2. Chapter 2

They had already performed this song. He counted the beats in his head.

_One - two - three -_  
_Four - five - six -_  
_Seven - Eight - and -_  
_One - two - three -_  
_Four - fix - six -_  
_Seven - eight - and -_

"You owe me a dance, Lametenant."

She had slinked beside him immediately after their eyes locked in the ballroom. He had carelessly glanced her way one or two times. Perhaps it was three or four when he caught wind of the fifth or sixth glass of champagne she lusciously talked out of another awestruck nameless aristocrat. Princess Emma was erratic, and clever, and beautiful, and crafty and a bloody siren.

"Your Highness." He bowed and straightened his back as she returned her empty drink to a servant with a tray who happened to be wandering by.

"What are you doing here?" She muttered pretending to be uninterested in his answer as she directed her eyes on the band.

Killian recognized what she was trying to do; she was attempting to bait him. Her tricks may have been oblivious to some other target, but he, he could read her like an open book. That, and well, he had first hand experience in her tactics. Emma'd find a way in, and then pull her victim down fast. Hard. Fast. He moved his head as his thoughts jumbled into garbled nonsense. Not tonight, he promised himself wordlessly. Not ever again.

He chuckled, but it was to keep up appearances for those lingering by with curious eyes. Their bitter words were always masked behind a facade of pleasantries. "It's a military ball, Your Highness."

"Yes, but last year you practically begged your Captain to allow you to stay behind on the ship." Emma moved for one more glass of champagne. "To avoid me no doubt."

"Aye." He confirmed. "I needn't see you more than necessary, Your Highness."

"So honest." Emma held the glass to her rouge lips. "Perhaps I'd like you to be here."

"Whatever for?" Killian pursed his lips tightly together. Everything about her demeanor and mannerisms radiated confidence. He had been suckered in without realizing it. Two could play her game. He offered his hand to her; a gesture that suggested he would enjoy her company on the dance floor. Emma slowly tugged her bottom lip in her mouth "Would you care to dance with me, could that be it?"

His sarcasm elicited a laugh. "To get under your skin." She admitted with a wry smile. "Be wary sailor. I may accept your offer."

"I'm afraid dancing won't secure the victory you seek, Your Highness." He shifted his hand back toward his side. "You wont get a rise out of me by dancing."

"Liar." She drawled without batting an eye.

As much as he could read her, the same could be said of her. Emma floated closer to him with a cheeky grin as her hands gently tugged the fabric of her emerald green gown. He intuitively stepped back. She was most dangerous when she was close. The proximity always gave him a cocktail of mixed emotions; anger, annoyance, and at times, a tiny sliver of fear. She was unpredictable like the sea; beautiful and taunting.

"Drunkenness is bad form." She lifted her eyebrows imitating his accent. He circled his eyes. "Bad form indeed, Your Highness."

"That's not what I said." He chided clearing his throat. His eyes roamed the room. Luckily his brother was out of earshot. Nobody of consequence was nearby to eavesdrop their current exchange, so he hardened his face and leaned forward to fight her gaze. The corner of her lip twitched. "You certainly do exaggerate the incident more each time we cross paths."

"Exaggerate?" Emma growled. "I have no need to exaggerate your prude behavior, Lieutenant."

"Prude?" A grunt escaped from the back of his throat. "I may be many things, Princess, but prude is not one of them."

"Oh Lametenant, you certainly don't expect me to believe that."

_Here we go_, he thought. _Take a step back, don't let her get under your skin. This is ridiculous_, he lamented. _Completely laughable. How can one woman garner such a reaction? You are at the bloody palace, for gods sake. Not only do you need to maintain good form in front of your Captain and crew, but also the kingdom's fashionable society; the King and Queen - and gods, this woman._

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think I struck a nerve." The pleased hum of her voice erected the hair on his neck. She was looking rather smug and sure of herself. As his blue eyes met her green, there was a jolt. Something new; something intense; something foreign to the both of them. She was intoxicated; he inhaled the sweet liquor on her breath. He needed to end this before it got out of hand. To do so he had to switch his tactic. Tit for tat would gain him nothing but a headache.

"I know what you're doing."

"Oh?" The Princess laid a hand on his chest. "And what's that, Lametenant?"

He winced as the white gloved fingers outlined circles along his vest. "You're baiting me."

"I am." She laughed. "Is it working?"

"No." It came out much more harsh than he intended.

She smiled victoriously. She had him right where she wanted him. "Liar."

Killian shook his head. Her hand felt like it was scorching through his uniform. She noticed his hesitation to remove it. A mischievous spark set her eyes ablaze. She tousled his hat and yanked on his ponytail. He let out a long breath.

"You don't like this." She shifted her hand to his cheek. "You don't like when I get close."

She was right and wrong at the same time. "What are you doing?" He hissed. "There are over 100 people in this room. What if one takes the moment to notice-"

"Then you'll get the trouble you so rightly deserve."

At that, his eyes narrowed. "I beg your pardon?"

"You stole my first kiss from me. You took a moment that was supposed to be special, and twisted it into one of your high and mighty moral quests." Emma took his hat and placed it on her head. He tried -and failed- to keep his hands at his side. Before he realized what he was doing, Killian reached for his hat the way he used to reach for stolen toys Liam ran off with when they were children. Dignity and propriety be damned! She was deriding him with his bloody hat at a military ball in front of his Captain, crew, and King and Queen.

"I stole your first kiss?" The words rolled off his tongue like venom. "That Prince can sod off. What sort of man coerces a 16 year old girl into a storage closet with a bottle of rum?" He swiped for her head once more, but she was quick and moved to his left. He was answered with a wink. "He was taking advantage of you. His hand was hiking up your skirt when I walked in."

"It was my decision to sneak off, Lieutenant. I was not some damsel in distress that needed you to save me." Emma kicked his boot, and he held a sigh. Wandering eyes of nearby attendees settled on them. His whole body hardened. He looped the word composure in his thoughts as Emma ensnared him with the same argument they had at every encounter with one another since the incident occurred. "You forget that you are only three years older than me," she continued delivering another firm kick. "Don't patronize me." Emma grabbed his hat and set it atop his head so that it dangled lopsided by his right ear. "Philip has not talked to me in nearly two years because of you."

"Princess, it was my job." He sighed adjusting the hat. "What do you want me to say? That I apologize? Well-" Images of the much older Prince with his clammy hands on her knee flickered in his thoughts. Killian snickered. "I certainly wont apologize. If anything, you should be thanking me."

"Thanking you?" She seethed. He swallowed hard. The Princess brought her face to his. Too close. Far too close. Her breath was warm on his cheeks. The way her hand was clasping to his jacket.

_Oh gods._

"Princess, please." He whispered. "What are you doing?"

She grinned before shoving him hard in the chest. "Thank you, Lametenant for humiliating me at the beginning of a two week journey on a ship surrounded by nothing but open sea. Thank you, for telling your Captain who returned the favor by telling my parents. How ever should I repay you?"

She was challenging him. He never was one to back down.

"You already graciously repaid me, Your Highness."

"You think your brother reprimanding you for-" she made air quotes - "lewd behavior at the palace is justice?"

He bit his tongue and tasted iron. "Bad form, Your Highness. I'd expect more out of a Princess."

"Well you learned the hard way that I am not an ordinary Princess. This isn't over, Lieutenant. The night has only begun."

_Wonderful_, he mused as she turned her back on him. There was no glance behind as Emma drifted away from their niche of the ballroom and back into the sea of aristocracy. It wasn't long before she grabbed the attention of some other noble. Gods, the flirting. Her silky gloved fingers lightly pressed to her lips as she fabricated a smile. The high-pitched laughter that reeled the poor fool into her web. Not a minute later he had acquired her yet another glass of champagne. And Killian silently cursed at himself for watching. He was unable to place his attention elsewhere.


	3. Chapter 3

If Emma overheard the phrase true love again, she was confident she'd vomit. Wouldn't that be a sight to see? Her mother would definitely cry if Emma's insides wound up on the lavender gown she insisted Emma wore to dinner that evening. She sat in perfect silence as her father and mother entertained their guests with tales of their youth. It was rare to find a person in the Enchanted Forest who hadn't heard the tale of how true loves kiss broke the Evil Queen's sleeping curse on her mother. True love this, and true love that. Now that she was 19, both her parents had been putting a tremendous amount of pressure on her to find someone.

"It could be anyone, you just have to get out there, Emma."

She had rolled her eyes when her mother first suggested it. No, it is not that simple. Not every girl can waltz into the woodlands and meet her true love like you, mom. Love is complex, and unattainable for many of that she was convinced. If it were easy, wouldn't more people have it? She felt like a kettle whistling over a fire set by her parents.

Honestly, Emma was content with her life the way it was. She enjoyed her independence. She liked being able to leave the palace and visit the odd nooks and crannies of the kingdom. Marriage would mean settling down; maybe it would mean starting her own family. The idea of being a mother frightened her. She could hardly manage to care for herself, how could she be responsible for another person? Why was she imagining this at the dinner table? Oh, that's right - Princess Aurora and Prince Philip were married. Even better, they were expecting. When their honored dinner guest arrived yesterday afternoon with the news, suddenly all eyes were aimed at Emma. They may not of known it, but she caught multiple staff whispering behind her back. "The Princess is two years older."

She abruptly stood up. "I need to-" she cleared her throat and turned to their guest. "Forgive me, sir. Excuse me."

She didn't glance back; she couldn't. Emma balled up the fabric of her gown and swiftly exited the dinning room. She could sense her mother's eyes burning into the back of her skull. She'd be in for an earful later, but she didn't care.

Air. I just need some air, she reasoned. Everything will be fine after I get some air.

Emma kicked off her shoes abandoning them in the corridor as she sprinted toward an exit. If she could see the stars and feel the wind, maybe it would pacify her nerves.

"What's the matter with me?" She huffed out as her fingers coiled around the handle of the door.

That night, air didn't do much more than make her shiver.

* * *

The bell was ringing. The bell was… ringing?

Oh gods! The bell was ringing!

Emma sprang from her bed and rushed toward the window. Not once in her life had she heard it, but she knew the warning it brought. Ships with the royal insignia were visible in the horizon. One ship had already docked. The white sails and the elaborate paint on the exterior meant it was the Jewel.

"Emma!" Her father beckoned her the moment she marched into the room. "Good gods, what are you wearing?"

She had failed to dress suitably. The bell and sighting the Jewel received precedence over taking gross amounts of time to lace a corset. Her mother laid her palm on her husband's shoulder and swayed her head.

"David, it's fine. It's just a nightgown." She sighed. "Can someone fetch my daughter a cloak?"

"Yes, milady!" a guard responded before resigning from his post by her father's side.

"What's going on?" Emma questioned, shifting her focus to her father. His brow was wrinkled. Dark shadows circled his eyes. The familiar twinkle she had grown accustomed to seeing was gone. All she could read was fear.

"Dad?" He was still. "Mom? She shut her eyes as her head fell downward. "The bell." She pointed toward a windowpane. "I was pulled out of my sleep because the bell was sounding. Are we in danger? Are we under attack?"

Emma's eyes drifted back and forth between her parents. Her father looked tense, and it seemed her mother would collapse if she wasn't clinging onto his forearm so tightly. It was unusual to see her parents in this manner. It was as if all the color had been sucked out of their faces.  
Emma let out a long breath. "Please tell me what's going on."

"W-we," her father hesitated. "I'm sorry, but we cannot."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Emma blurted out.

"Emma!" Snow chided. Her mouth parted as her eyes settled on her daughter and widened. "Language!"

She couldn't help but laugh. It was ludicrous her mother was concerned about her language. The laugh steeped in the back of her throat and came out bitter. "My entire life you've warned me about that damn bell! What's going-"

"Stop!" Snow interrupted.

"Stop?" Emma asked incredulously as she drove her hands down in frustration. "Really? Tell me mother," the word rolled of tongue sharply, "am I to wait patiently in my room and turn a blind eye on our kingdom and our people?" Snow pursed her lips. "I am an adult, and one day I'm going to be Queen of this-" she gestured at the stone walls. "I deserve to know if there is a threat to our people! I am tired of sitting in my room like a complacent accessory you feel the need to take out when you want to show it off!"

"Emma, stop. Not right now." Her father warned.

But she was done with hearing not right now. It was always not right now. When she didn't want to attend balls, or meet potential suitors it was not right now. When she asked to be included in negotiations with neighboring kingdoms, it was not right now. The only time her parents embraced her in anything was when it had to do with pursuing a match. She did not want to find a suitor; she did not want to get married, and she unquestionably didn't want to be left in the dark about anything important anymore.

"Fine."

Emma spun on her heels. She wanted to create a scene. She wanted to stomp her way out of that room pretending to be the child they treated her as. Instead, she spotted naval officers. Naval officers along the wall. Naval officers whom she had gathered had been there the entire time. Naval officers who had heard her curse and eyed her argument with her mother. Naval officers who were observing her act like a spoiled brat in her nightgown.

Her hands flew to her chest. "Gods damn't!"

"Emma!" Her parents both scolded.

Her eyes descended on him. Of course, he was there. Of course, he was there to witness everything. Of course, he was the one nearest to the door. She inhaled sharply. She had two options: 1) stand in the center of the room looking like a fool, or 2) exit the room and return to her chambers to feel like a fool in privacy. She opted for the latter. Emma straightened her back and went toward the exit. All the naval officers bowed as she walked by them. Awkward whispered greetings of "Your Highness" buzzed in her ears. When she approached HIM, she halted. He crossed in front of her to open the door.

"Your highness," Lieutenant Jones bowed.

"Lieutenant." She grumbled before exiting.

He was never going to let this go.

* * *

It was war. The Dark One and Evil Queen were coming, and many would die. And the thought made her toes curl, and her eyes sting with tears, and her throat dry. It was hard to breathe. So what did her parents do? They orchestrated a ball. Another military ball to praise and celebrate the grand royal guards and navy before sending them off to fight for their kingdom. Emma watched as her maids quietly tugged at her hair, and fastened her clasps, and painted her face a rainbow of utterly ridiculous colors. She had to be made to fit what society deemed as presentable. The words true love rang in her ears; her destiny was to find her true love while the Enchanted Forest and her people burned from war.

Emma caught her reflection as the maids excused themselves from her chamber. She looked like a porcelain doll. Red lips, pale skin, and eyes outlined in a dark shade. She had been scolded countless times since her scene by both her parents, and even her godparents. Well not all of her godparents. Grumpy praised her for being a firecracker.

The ballroom was a spectrum of color. The ladies' of the court were spinning and socializing and functioning as if nothing were amiss. Why should they behave another way? Clearly they were only here to offer moral support, and the best way to do that was to pretend everything was fine. Right? No. That was crazy, she sensed it in her bones it was wrong.

"Dance with me, Your Highness."

Emma gasped at the warm breath against her ear. "Lieutenant?"

He offered her arm, and she questioned the gesture. A year ago she was sloshed beyond reason midway through the evening. The two butted heads several times before she called it a night. Now she turned her nose at every glass of champagne. A year ago, Emma sniggered at his refusal to play their game. You owe me a dance, Lametenant burned in her ears. He was simply staring at her waiting for an answer.

"Why?"

He grinned. "Why not?"

"Because we hate one another." She concluded. "Unless something has changed that I'm unaware of."

He chuckled. "Perhaps something has, your highness. Perhaps not."

She raised an eyebrow. Was he flirting with her? Who was the man in front of her at the moment? Where was the prude Lieutenant? He was smiling, and his eyes were not narrowed… his face wasn't stiff, and his shoulders were unwound. Her mouth stretched open a second.

Emma folded her arms. "I still hate you."

"Liar." He drawled out.

She felt like her heart sank from her chest and descended to her stomach. Lieutenant Jones WAS flirting with her.

"Are you alright, Your Highness?" He inquired as one of his bushy eyebrows arched.

She honestly did not know how to respond to this. A storm of questions erupted in her brain. Is he insane? Maybe this is what she needed. Maybe their usual bickering would improve her irritable disposition. Why was he being different? Was this all part of one of their games?

Emma sighed. She had been sulking for days. When she ran into the Lieutenant in the morning she had no desire to mess with him at all. Maybe she was growing up. Maybe hating him seemed stupid when compared to war. Maybe she was over reading the entire situation.  
What the hell. Might as well, she mused. It's more than likely the last time you'll see him.

She swallowed at the thought. Something inside her ached. The last time? Her fingers slinked around his arm. "Right. Lets dance."

She couldn't hear the music as they circled around the marble floor. All eyes fell on Emma. She could feel them burning every inch of her body. The lieutenant was stoned faced, rigid, and thankfully behaving as normal as he'd always been. This may be the last time you see him.

She winced, and he cleared his throat.

"Did I misplace my feet?"

She blinked. "No."

He bit his bottom lip. Emma glimpsed at his face. The lieutenant's eyes were concentrated on something behind her. She wanted to see what he was so fixated on.

"What are you doing?" She muttered. "What's so important over there?"

He was silent. "Don't ignore me." She seethed.

"I'm not ignoring you, your highness." He frowned. "Truthfully, I am horrid at dancing."

No sooner then the last word slipped from his lips did he flounder over his own foot. Emma giggled as he endeavored to compose himself.

She playfully tapped his shoulder. "Then why are we dancing?"

"I wanted to."

The room whirled around her.

"It's not like we wont see each other again, Lieutenant."

Her body stung. He averted his eyes from hers. Something about the way he began to breathe told her something she didn't want to consider. He doubted her words. As long as the two had known one another, she had always prided herself in knowing that the lieutenant may have been able to conceal his emotions from his crew but not her. She could read him like an open book. If she wanted, she could wiggle her way under his skin and make him squirm. He couldn't hide that he doubted her remark. He couldn't mask the hint of terror in his stormy eyes.

It was too much. She needed to change the subject. She needed to make this feel routine. "I'm surprised you haven't brought up me making a fool out of myself in my nightgown."

The Lieutenant hummed before casting his eyes at hers. "It crossed my mind, but it would be bad form to ridicule the Princess."

She snorted. "Right. Because you're never done THAT before." He stumbled once again, and Emma had a cheeky smile on her face. "You truly are a lousy dancer, Lieuten-"

"You surprised me." He interrupted.

"What?"

"May I be bold?"

Emma felt his hand tighten on her waist. "If you must."

"I understood. The way you felt. I to know what it feel likes to-"

"You don't know anything about how I feel!" Her voice echoed around them. It came out bitter, although she didn't intend it. Her eyes flickered to the band whom she saw was finishing their song. "It appears the music is ending."

The Lieutenant nodded. Emma was not going to have this conversation with him. Not now; not ever. The music ceased, and the two held onto one another a moment longer. He was the first to break away and bowed as she reluctantly curtseyed.

"Thank you for the dance, Your Highness."

Emma rolled her eyes and abandoned him on the dancefloor without a goodbye.

* * *

Regret is an awful thing.

She couldn't sleep that night after the ball had ended. She watched as the military attendees filed out of the palace. She didn't spot him, but she convinced herself that she wasn't really looking. When the sun peaked over the horizon, she was still seated at her window with both eyes glued to the docks and the many ships preparing to set sail. The Jewel stood out amongst them.

Naughty Princess Emma always required an escort. She smiled at the thought. He'd always loom over her when she'd be aboard the ship. Ever since the incident with Philip, the Lieutenant would guard her like a hawk. It was suffocating and ridiculous, and when she'd want to retire for the evening, he'd escort her each and every night to her door. First thing in the morning he'd be waiting to accompany her around. The lieutenant was simply there; always.

Emma'd play dirty tricks on him testing to see how long it'd take to break him. At first he just took it, because of propriety she assumed. The more she pushed the shorter his patience became until one day he snapped. She pushed him into a corner threatening to tell his Captain about lewd behavior with a kitchen maid. The Lieutenant's eyes sparked, and he'd pushed her right back.

"I dare you. Propriety be damned," he hissed at her. Remembering the way he looked at that moment made her laugh.

Then there were the stupid balls. Year after year he'd be invited to the military ball and she'd seek him out. She loved to locate him and entertain herself by pushing his buttons. It was far more enjoyable than dancing. Truthfully she loathed balls. She hated the elaborate decorations and gowns and the formal snobbish conduct everyone around her displayed. She preferred fighting with the lieutenant. She preferred their banter. She-

Emma could feel the tears forming in the corner of her eyes. The Lieutenant doubted he'd come back. She may never see him again. Selfish thoughts clouded Emma's brain. Who would save her at these awful balls from boredom? Who would stand up to the hot-headed Princess if not him? Nobody dared. Nobody except him.

In the distance, she could see ships beginning to sail. Her heart sank. She had thrown up her walls while they danced. She had blocked him from getting close enough to form any kind of moment or bond. Gods she was angry and felt like a complete fool. The tears began to fall. Emma pulled herself away from the window. It was too much to watch the ships go. All her thoughts and feelings jumbled together into one huge unsortable mess. She flung herself on her bed and clutched her pillow tightly.

"I don't want you to die." She whispered. "I don't want the last time I see you to be me yelling at you."

Emma caught a faint knock from the other side of the door but couldn't bring herself to move from the spot she had fallen in. Moments passed before she felt warm arms blanket over her. Vanilla and cinnamon emanated from her mother. Snow embraced her daughter and smoothed soothing circles on her back.

"I don't want anyone to die." Emma's voice rustled.

"I know." Her mother's voice cracked. "I don't want anyone to die."

"I don't want-" The words caught in her throat. She sniffled once before forcing out everything. "I don't want Killian to die. I yelled at him. I yelled at him, and now he's gone."

"Emma, honey, you have to-"

"I fucked up." She cried. "I didn't know that I didn't hate him. Mom, I didn't know. I don't hate him. I don't. I really don't."


	4. Chapter 4

She laughs when Grumpy relaxes on the edge of the cliff. His legs are suspended next to hers as he uncorks his flask and takes a swig. Of all seven of her godfathers, he's the only one who won't send her back, and she can't help but think it's ridiculous he'd pretend he was hunting for her.

"What are you doing out here, sister?" He questions offering the flask her way. Emma lifts a hand and shakes her head. She hasn't drunk once since the war started. "Suit yourself." He takes a long sip and licks his lips. "Snow has half the guards searching for you."

Emma rolls her eyes at that. Her mother had been smothering her since the night Emma let her see her cry.

"She thinks if you stray from the castle the Queen will get her grimy paws on you."

At that, she snorts. "What do you think?"

"I think that if she wanted you, she would have already taken you." He takes one last drink before popping the cork back on his flask and shoving it in his vest. "Still not safe to go out alone. Not with a war."

"I can take care of myself, Grumpy." Her voice cracks.

He agrees. "You do have a mean right hook." He motions towards the sea before rubbing his forehead.

_He must have run to the cliffs to be so sweaty_, Emma reasons.

"What's your deal with this place?"

"I like seeing the open water." It's only half true. She knows he thinks she's full of shit by the way his lips curve. "It's my reason, and I'm not too keen on parting it with anyone."

"Whatever." He counters her snark with a snicker. "I'll keep you company. Wouldn't want to head back now anyway. Everyones got their knickers all bent out of shape looking for you. Might as well enjoy the time out."

She studies the way he holds himself. It's stupid to act as if he didn't care, because the sweat on his face told a different story.

* * *

If she knew anywhere to write him she would, but her pride keeps her from asking around. If she asks she shows she cares; if she shows she cares it will be all the more painful if he accepts her letters and declines to write back.

_And why would he write you, Emma?_

She tortures herself with this issue continuously throughout the days that seem to stretch on.

_Why would he write you back after what you've done to him? Why did he ask you to dance with him?_

Years of tormenting him circle through her thoughts like a wheel. The several times she tripped him at public assemblies; the one time she made him a patsy for her own immoral behavior in the kitchen; the time she locked him in a storage closet and he had to climb out a window. Yeah, Emma was sure that the Lieutenant minded her as much as he cared for contracting a cold. Or the plague. Or something far worse, if there was something graver than the plague… Emma believed that she was quietly suffering to the distracted eyes of those around her. Gods, she hated it.

Not long after the ships departed port, her father decreed that all mirrors be destroyed. Each shard of glass was discarded to the ocean floor. Her grandmother, the Evil Queen, the woman who was half the reason for this war could use mirrors with her black magic. As for the Dark One, his name was strictly forbidden from being spoken.

"Names, Emma," her father told her, "are a powerful thing. Saying it once would summon him.

It was true because in an act of defiance after seven months of being shut out of all military relations she did it. Just like that he obliged her.

"I knew it would be you." He clapped his hands. "I was waiting patiently in my castle spinning my wheel awaiting your call, m'lady."

"I was testing to see if it were true. That if I called your name you'd appear" Emma lied. "It is. Doesn't the Dark One have anything better to do? Be gone."

At that, he burst into deranged giggling. The high-pitched shrill voice caused her skin to itch. Goosebumps coated her arms; a chill crept up the core of her spine.

"Now is not the time for jokes, dearie." He clasped his hands tightly together. "Now is the time for making deals."

"I don't want to make deals with you." Truth was Emma'd give her left hand to know about the status of the Lieutenant. Gods, what had happened to her? "I wont."

"But you will." He scratched his chin and sized her up. "You shall see. You will summon me again soon."

"I wont."

He smirked. Emma gasped at the sight of his teeth. Every inch darkened and rotting away, or at least appeared to be.

"What if my only desire was to end the war you helped bring on my people?"

Another laugh. Much darker than the last. "But it isn't."

"How could you possibly know what's inside my head?" Emma folded her arms.

"I know, because you wear it on you face, dearie. Our little Princess has become a woman, and a woman with her heart on her sleeve." She inhaled sharply. "It doesn't matter how many mirrors you break, or how many guards stand watch in every corner of your room. I see everything. That lieutenant of yours-"

"Stop." She felt sick to her stomach. Was it that obvious? Could he really read her so well?

"Oh. Oh, how interesting." The Dark One capered closer to her and rolled forward on his toes. His scaly hands reached for a strand of her hair. She swatted it away and took a step back. "How about I leave you with this because you'll summon me again very soon either way. Consider it a token of goodwill. Your lieutenant's fate hangs in the balance. You see his fate is like a coin. He will return to you either way, but one path he'll lose himself and you'll be nothing more than a stranger."

Emma shut her eyes. _Don't listen to him, Emma. Nothing he says is clear. He twists words to manipulate the world to his advantage. Don't listen._

"I don't believe a word you say. Be gone imp."

There was no reply. No giggle. When she dared to open her eyes, he was gone.

* * *

Two months had passed since encountering the Dark One. Two more months without seeing the Jewel. Two more months of being kept in the dark about the status of the war and her kingdom and her people by her parents. She was on the edge. It wouldn't take very much more for Emma to crack.

He found her at the cliffs - again. She had been sneaking out more often. Grumpy waited a few minutes by the trunk of an elm tree watching as Emma gazed at the horizon. Her eyes were constantly roaming the water in search of something. No, not something. Someone.

"Where are you?" She whispered into the wind.

His eyes fell to his flask as a lump formed in the back of his throat.

_Poor kid. Poor Emma._

Grumpy got her; Grumpy understood. For years, he had been giving that lieutenant the stink eye. He noticed it the moment Lieutenant self-righteous escorted Emma back from that party. That hot-headed straight laced goody-two-shoes eye sparked whenever they landed on Emma; he recognized that look. It was hard not to living with Snow and Charming all these years.

The fighting was absolute bullshit. He'd watch the two go at it every time their paths intersected. Some unbelievable effort to disguise what really laid underneath it all. Those two kids were one in the same. He was sure the lieutenant had known right away that he was completely screwed the moment he laid eyes on Emma. And Emma, well, he figured she didn't know until it was too late. It's when she noticed her feelings that she started to hide at the cliffs. Emma was scared. He got it. Love could be downright terrifying.

The first day she ran, he was scared shitless. Grumpy ran in every direction he thought of until he found her crying alone at the cliffs. He decided to keep it to himself. The kid needed some space. That and he couldn't bear to break the way she'd watch the sea like a familiar old friend. Two months later, he sat down next to her and uncorked his flask relishing in the amber liquid as it burned its way down his throat. Then it became a weekly thing. Now, it's a daily thing.

"So I hear from Snow that no good Lieutenant will be making an appearance soon." He can't stand to see her suffering any longer, so he lies. Nobody had heard from the Jewel in months. Emma's eyes twitched. "Thought I'd warn you."

She moans. A feeble attempt to keep up her fake hatred.

_Nice try_, he thinks.

"Not him." Emma spits out. "It was kind of nice around here with him being away for so long."

"I don't like that snitch either." Emma's skin is less pale than when he first sat down to join her. He takes another sip.

_I'm going to some hell for this lie_, he thinks as he scratches his nose.

"Happy might not agree, but I think that snitch deserved it when you set him up to take the fall for the kitchen incident."

She laughs and his heart warms when he hears it being strengthened by something genuine.

"How long till he's back?" She digs her fingers into the fabric of her dress. "So I can be sure to be out that day."

"Any day now. Might be a month. Depends really. Can't be certain with the war and all." Grumpy sighs. "Don't bring him here."

"I don't want to bring him anywhere." She rolls her eyes. "I don't like him."

"Okay, Emma." He needs another drink; he's emptied his flask. "Whatever you say."


	5. Chapter 5

_Think lovely thoughts._

It was the last thing his mother had said to him when he was a lad, no older than seven summers. Much too young to know that those words were her goodbye, and too naive to understand that death was final. He was submerged in chaos. His brother had been taken captive, and most aboard the Jewel when the attack hit were dead. He laid still next to the bodies of his fallen comrades. His crew, no, his family.

_Think lovely thoughts, Killian._ But how could he? Why did they leave him? Surely they must have assumed he was among the dead. The Jewel was heavily damaged. His arm was numb. He took a long breath.

_Think lovely thoughts. You're in shock. Pull yourself together._

"Think lovely-"

* * *

**THREE YEARS AGO**

"Why must our extended leave occur in the winter?" He grumbled as his breath became visible in the air. The falling snow had already dusted his uniform. Although he wore gloves, his hands were thoroughly chilled. As they strolled toward the palace side by side, Killian glimpsed at his older brother. Liam was pink in the face and chipper with each step forward. He -unlike Killian- enjoyed the winter in an obnoxious way. Killian groaned.

Liam laughed before patting him firmly on his shoulder. "Are you alright there, little brother?"

He scoffed. "Oh yes. Quite. It's bloody freezing, and we are heading into red territory."

"Red territory?" His face twisted at the comment. "Surely you do not mean the company of your Queen and King."

"Of course not!" Killian answered, annoyance laced in both voice and mannerisms. He folded his arms and shoved them tightly against his chest before sticking his nose up. "You know perfectly well whom I'm speaking of."

"Your Princess."

He winced at the way his brother phrased it. Your? YOUR? He couldn't believe the words even tumbled from his lips. Liam ignored his expression entirely.

"Perhaps fortune will favor you today lieutenant, and you and your princess will not cross paths."

There was that word again: your. Emma was certainly not his, not his well, his anything. He wanted to laugh because that was an utterly ridiculous thing for Liam to say. He knew bloody well that as soon as she spotted the Jewel's sails, Emma would make it a point to force herself in any path he ventured on to. The palace was her territory, and his only guaranteed safety was boarding the Jewel and sailing away from her kingdom. She had her parents, servants, guards, and even HIS own brother under her dainty little finger. Their last encounter at the military ball was more than enough Emma for one year if you asked him.

He caught his brother's pointed look through the corner of his eye. "What?" He asked before focusing his attention on the path. The snow had already begun to stick to the earth. Soon it would be a nuisance for him to walk anywhere. Something distasteful bubbled within him. Liam was getting on his nerves prodding him the way he was.

"You will be on best behavior." He wasn't asking. Killian inhaled sharply at his warning. "No repeats of-"

"Aye."

"Killian." It was harsh, and for a moment he considered butting heads with his older brother. Instead, he did the sensible thing and chose to feed his ego by acknowledging his authority over him.

"I shall be in tip top order," he gave a limp salute, "Captain."

Not even his left foot had made it past the palace gates before he spotted her. Emma's golden hair was pulled up into a messy bun and her green cape fluttered along with the gentle breeze. Directly behind her was the dwarf guard with the constant scowl etched on his face. The two whispered amongst themselves as Liam bowed and moved forward to do the customary greetings. Killian tried -and failed- to avoid her eyes. When his blue met her green something sparked at his core momentarily. He had experienced it once before at their last meeting, but he could not place a finger on what it was.

_Ughhhhhhhhh_, frustration pooled within him.

"Your Highness," he greeted when he saw that she had already made her descent toward him. The bow was stiff and longer than normal. He knew once it was over that Emma would be invading his personal space ready to pounce; ready to tease him; ready to -

"Lametenant." He winced. She had grown fond of ridiculing him with that particular moniker. "I see that you've returned just in time for the holiday which I'm sure my parents will extend an invitation to you and your Captain. They do love the Captain."

"Indeed." He replied with a stoic face. "What an honor that he is favored by His Majesty."

"I'm sure it will be a very festive occasion." Emma's lip curled into a smile that made his eye twitch. "You can count on it." She added.

_Wonderful_, he thought. Another ball to worm his way out of. Hopefully.

Emma laced her gloved hand around his cravat before giving it a firm tug. He stumbled forward so that his face was lined up with hers. Those eyes of hers had that devilish glint in them. Too close. Far too close for comfort, but he found himself unwilling to back down.

"I'll be wearing red." She said in a near whisper. She shoved him back before pivoting. He watched with narrowed eyes as she marched through the white dusted steps toward the palace entrance. There was no way he was attending. No way in all seven hells.

* * *

When the carriage arrived at the palace he sighed.

_Bloody hell Liam_, he thought as he brought his hand to his forehead and rubbed his temple. The dull ache could not be soothed. He had fought his brother tooth and nail to get out of coming, and yet here he was dressed in his finest next to his brother ready to make a complete arse of himself in front of all the kingdom's fashionable society. He knew Emma would be sure to embarrass him -again- and make him uncomfortable -again- all because she still held a grudge from two years ago.

"You'll have to put on a better face than that, little brother." Liam smirked at his brother's distraught face. "You look as if you've become seasick."

"Knowing I'll be enduring many hours of watching complete strangers become smashed has given me a headache." He shook his head. Images of the Princess and the military ball flood his senses. "Will you be drinking as well? Must I prepare myself to drag you home?"

"I shall only drink if offered one by the King." Liam winked.

He sighed, that was a given. King David was particularly skilled at evading the Queen's eye when it came to drinking.

_Probably how Emma became so skilled at getting pissed at social functions_, he mused.

His brother never turned down a drink when offered by the King. Killian dragged both his hands down his face. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

_Bad form_, he thought as his eyes closely watched the Princess. She had held mistletoe over several pairs of unsuspecting patrons giggling devilishly as they sloppily kissed one another. He found himself questioning how Emma could enjoy such a foolish tradition. Nobody dared to back away or decline humoring her. They all simply leaned in and kissed whomever she had chosen.

She was red head to toe from her elaborate gown to a ruby necklace and wild flowers braided delicately into her hair. She was also intoxicated and red in the face, but the hue was in no way off-putting. He hated that she was always so… attractive even in this condition.

_PRUDE_. She mouthed at him once she spotted that he was watching her. He blinked before turning his back to her. He hated that. He hated to be called a prude. Was it so awful to turn down alcohol? Why was staying uninebriated so frowned upon by everyone? His entire body tensed when he felt her arm slink up his back. He regretted watching her. Of course, she'd come over. Of course.

"Lame-ten-ant." She sang before holding the branch of mistletoe in front of his eyes. His heart felt as if it had dropped from his chest out his ass. "Have you been enjoying your time along the wall this evening?"

"Q-quite." He stammered eyeing the foul plant with caution. "What are you doing?"

"It's the Winter Solstice. I'm just partaking in one of the more enjoyable traditions." She tugged on his ponytail with her other arm. Instinct kicked in and he clamped down on his tongue as hard as he could. If he did not force himself into silence, it wouldn't be long before the two of them engaged in their familiar heated argument.

_Don't-humor-her._

"I saw your Captain scurry off with my father to his study." She said, followed by a drawn out laugh. "Why are you so tight-lipped?"

She pulled the mistletoe down and waited. He lifted his brow before she rolled her eyes. He wasn't taking her bait.

"Philip was invited." She relinquished that information with a hard tone. "But he respectfully declined my invitation."

"Good."

The word came out without even considering repercussions. Her eyes grew large.

_Shit_.

"Good?" She practically spit at him. "Good?"

"Aye." He scoffed. "Good. I can already imagine him trying to coerce a lady into a storage closet. No sense of propriety. You're far better off, believe me."

"And you're better?" She stomped forward.

He nodded. "Any man is better."

Killian inhaled and moved his eyes toward the wall behind Emma. He would not give her the satisfaction of seeing him lose his temper. Not tonight. He brought his arms behind his back and stood as straight as an arrow. Emma kicked his boot.

"I will not play these childish games anymore." His hissed at her.

"Oh really?"

"Aye."

"Fine." Emma replied.

"Fine." He returned.

"Good." She said.

"Good."

* * *

_Killian Jones_, he thought as he wandered through the dark kitchen. _You are a bloody idiot._

She had slithered away with some unsuspecting dolt. Intoxicated. Giggling. Mistletoe clutched over his head with one arm as she dragged him by his shirt with the other. And he followed them down the long pathway from the ballroom to the servants quarters and from there to the kitchen, and once he entered the kitchen he heard her laugh before extinguishing the only oil lamp.

"I thought we were done playing childish games lametenant." She called out through the darkness. "Thank you Pinocchio."

There was a second laugh. When he found that git he was going to greet him with his fists. What sort of man plays into such a childish coy?

_Why are you questioning his actions, you idiot?_ He thought stumbling around in total darkness. _You followed her!_

"Princess!" He growled. "When I find you-"

"If!" She interrupted.

He feigned a laugh. "There is no if! I will find you!"

"Ooooo." She taunted. "What will you do?"

"Perhaps drag you to your mother. Expose how much champagne you've had!"

"You. Wouldn't. Dare."

Something loud fell to the floor to his right. His head snapped immediately in the direction. He moved as fast as he could before his knee jarred against a table or counter.

"Bloody hell!"

"Such awful language to use in the palace!" More laughter. "You deserve that!" She called out scuffling further to the right. He bit his lip before following after it moving his arms around in front of him to avoid any other obstacles. Slowly his eyes were adjusting to the room. He recognized her silhouette pressed to the wall. He just about ran at her, but she didn't move. Not an inch. He pinned her between his arms before narrowing his eyes.

"Now what?" she asked. "You've got me here, what are you going to do, Lieutenant Jones?"

"I have no bloody clue." He admitted as he became aware of their closeness. Too close. Their bodies were too close. Even worse they were in the dark. Who knows what diabolical things she'd try in the dark. "Why do you torment me?"

"Because." She pressed her hand against his chest, and the pressure from her fingers felt like fire. "Pinocchio is running to tell the guards we sauntered away in here. I suggest you back off before-"

"Before what?" He shook his head. She would not implicate herself, of that he was certain. "You humiliate the both of us? Ruin my career? Ruin your reputation in front of your kingdoms aristocrats?"

"I may-"

"Liar." He drawled out.

"Liar?" She barked back.

"Yes! I am calling out your bluff, your highness." He was rattled. "Why are you doing this?"

"To make you uncomfortable." She confessed. "Why do you think I lured you out here?"

"You couldn't of possibly known I would follow." Right?

"I know you. You would follow me." She smiled. "The naughty Princess everyone turns a blind eye to." She peered down. "Except you."

His eyes fell to her hand as he caught her voice crack. He felt his chest tighten.

"I drank a lot." She said, walls up. "Drunkenness is bad form."

"I never said that!" He chided. "You're exaggerating."

"Like hell I am." Emma shoved him hard, but he didn't budge. His feet were rooted to the ground. "If you don't move I'm going to kiss you."

He flinched. "Please, don't." He removed both his arms and took a step back. "You are the last woman in all the realms I would ever-"

Emma discarded the mistletoe at his feet and walked away. Her silhouette vanished into the darkness. A moment later he heard the kitchen door close.

_What just happened?_

"Princess-" he reached his arm forward before bringing it back.

* * *

When he made his way back to the ballroom, Emma was dancing. Her face was bright as she glided along with her partner in perfect sync with the music. He envied her a moment. Dancing was not something he was fond of, or ever good at.

"Excuse me?"

Killian's eyes moved to the woman standing before him. Her hair was loose and draping over her shoulders in soft curls.

"Yes, milady?"

The woman's face was entirely crimson as she pointed up. He followed her hand only to discover mistletoe suspended directly above him. Oh no-

She bent in and kissed him on the cheek. His eyes stretched wide as he frantically combed the ballroom for the Princess praying to any of the Gods that she did not behold what had just occurred. But she had. She was staring directly at him as she proceeded to dance. Killian's face paled. The woman bowed before dashing off to giggle with two other women about what transpired.

"How bold of you!" One blurted after she hid her face with a silk fan.

Then he located Liam. He must have slinked his way back into the ballroom when he was indisposed in the kitchen. Oh Gods, Liam! He was just as red in the face as the lady who had just kissed him. Liam let out a hearty laugh before he patted King David's shoulder who mirrored his gesture with his own laughter. For a moment, he was hopeful that his brother missed the kiss, but when Liam's eyes reached his and his face bent in a broad grin accompanied by a wink, Killian knew. He needed air. Air. He needed-

"Would you care for a drink, Lieutenant?" A servant who carried a large silver tray asked. There were a dozen flutes of champagne. As much as he abhorred alcohol nothing looked better at the moment.

"Yes." He seized a glass and pulled it to his lips. The liquid was dry. How was a liquid dry? He finished it before setting the glass down and moving for another. He would never hear the end of this from the Princess or his brother. Frankly, he didn't know which would be worse. "Thank you." He coughed.

_Good Gods_. He considered as the liquid burned down his throat. _People enjoy this stuff?_

* * *

For the first time in his life, he was intoxicated. The first two glasses he had procured on his own, but the next three were personally handed to him by King David. His brother egged him on when he politely refused the first offer. Grudgingly he accepted it when the King offered once more. The next two he took without so much as batting an eye.

They discussed politics and the sea and eventually at one point in the conversation they somehow brought up mermaids. Everything was warm and hazy, and he had a unique tingling sensation emanating from the top of his head spreading down to the bottom of his toes. He swore up and down he felt like a color.

_How do you feel like a color, Killian?_

The next drink was offered by a lady who had approached him with her escort. He can't remember what they spoke of, but he recollects chuckling many times. Her escort seemed bothered when they excused themselves from his company.

He had been kissed once more, this time by a lady with black hair. She looked like the Queen except it was not the Queen. The Queen would never kiss a man that was not her husband… at least that is what he believed. He cursed dumbly that he kept roaming under that wicked plant.

Eventually, he excused himself from the ballroom wandering aimlessly around an empty corridor searching for a place to relieve himself.

Bloody hell. Alcohol was a whole new experience. One he was unsure of. Did he enjoy this? Did he hate this?

"You're drunk!"

He nearly fell on his arse when turning toward the sound of her voice. Emma was pointing at him in total shock.

"Lieutenant -alcohol is bad form- Jones is drunk!"

The Princess looked as if she were swaying, and that's when he lost his bearings. He took one step forward and had to grasp the railing of the wall to not trip.

"So are you!" He challenged.

"You have had your grimy paws all over my mother!" Emma then burst into a fit of laughter. She wrapped her arms around her belly and reeled forward. Her whole face was beet red. The flowers braided into her hair were beginning to fall out.

"I did no such thing!" He yelled incredulously.

"I saw it with my own eyes! My mother kissed you on the cheek, and you patted her head like a dog." The merriment continued until Emma crumpled to the floor. Her dress pooled around her, and she started to tug at it's hem before rubbing her eyes with one of her fingers. "I shan't ever call you a prude again."

He could sense heat spreading to his cheeks. He sank to the floor and began to scoot his way toward her. "I. Am. Not. A. Prude."

"I know!" She bellowed. "I saw the way you flirted with every woman who crossed your path tonight. Who knew you had it in you? I certainly didn't."

"I did not flirt!"

"I saw you!"

He waved her accusations off as he bent his head against the stone wall. A satisfied sigh left his lips. It felt good to have the cool stones against his head. Emma scooted closer to him another titter bubbling in the back of her throat.

"This is not proper." He said moving his arm between them. "I should not be alone with my kingdom's Princess in this state."

"Why not? You made it clear that you would never attempt a thing with me. I am the last woman in all the realms. Remember?"

"I lied." He knocked his head against the solid wall with all the strength he could muster. "I am a liar."

Emma eyed him. Clearly she didn't buy his words.

"Go away, Princess." He hissed. "Propriety."

"I am content here. You have no obligation to lie about being a liar." She laid down on the ground and spread out her arms. "I detest balls."

"You also despise me." He replied dragging his hands to his head. The dull ache was gradually returning to his temple. "More than anything."

"You stole my first kiss from me."

"Surely you've had another." He breathed massaging his temple with his thumb. The throbbing was beginning to reach the back of his neck. Is this what a hangover would feel like, he pondered as he clamped his eyes closed. Everything around him was entirely too bright.

"No." She lamented. "I have not."

"You will." He stated as he moved his hand to the back of his neck and pinched a large knot.

"I wanted it to be with someone I fancied." She began to slap her hand against the floor. "There has been nobody since Philip."

At the mention of the Prince, Killian grumbled. "Any man would be a better alternative to share such a moment with than that git!"

"He's not a git!" She snapped.

"He is!"

"No."

"Aye." His head ached far too much to go on with this. "Princess, please." He beseeched rotating his body to face her. She was sprawled out completely on the ground with an arm draped over her eyes. "Whatever are you doing on the floor?"

"I fear if I get up that I will vomit."

He snorted. "That makes two of us. I swear that I shall never drink again."

"Liar."

"Gods, I hope not."

* * *

**PRESENT**

He had not seen Emma in over a year, and now he was unsure if he ever would. He wanted to tell her before leaving that night they danced, but he was a -

"Think lovely thoughts." A tear slid down his cheek.

For a year, each happy thought was of her. Even when they were behaving like children, each moment with his Princess was a cherished memory. In the distance, he overheard a cannon. Was it an ally or a foe? He remained silent. Seemed his fate was finally descending upon him.


	6. Chapter 6

If she had another bite she was certain she'd vomit but if she ate her mother's anxious eyes would be placed elsewhere. She shoved another spoonful of soup into her mouth and silently chewed on a chunk of potato. Her posture was impeccable, her silverware precisely lined, and she feigned the most satisfied look she could muster up to please them.

"Emma, slow down." Her father chuckled. "You've inhaled almost all your meal."

"It is delicious." She lied.

Dinner was bland and oh-so-unsatisfying. Snow set her spoon down and gently wiped the edge of lip with a cream colored napkin. "Quite the appetite."

"I was absolutely famished after my midday lesson."

For the last month, Emma had been attending private self-defense lessons twice a week. Her mother and father had both insisted asserting it was a precaution. She discovered that engaging dummy's stuffed with straw was an excellent way to discharge pent up stress. Sadly her mother rejected the idea of additional days claiming Emma had an obligation to revisit lessons on etiquette. Lessons to equip her with the necessary tools to be a Queen. Truthfully, Emma could care less what was deemed fashionable. Grumpy had made a promise to train her after hours if she didn't give her mother such a hard time. So she forged an image everyone wanted to see all so she could escape for an extra hour each night.

Nights were painful; being alone is when her thoughts always reached him. He never returned. Grumpy had been wrong, and it wrecked her insides. Two weeks ago she overheard her father and mother with their advisors. The Jewel was on the list of ships that had gone missing.

"May I be excused?" She could sense the words threatening to crack. She had to get out of there before they saw through her mask.

"No. You may not." Her mother responded. Her father turned to his wife as his brow knitted together in confusion. "I saw Grumpy heading toward the servants quarters. Don't think I don't know what you've been up to."

_Damn._ Emma dropped her spoon. It delivered a loud clink against the bowl causing her mother's eye to twitch.

"Emma this has to stop."

"Why?" she impugned raising her voice. "Why? Why can I not be prepared?"

"You have adequate time set aside-"

"No!" Emma drove her chair back. Her father sat in bewildered silence as his daughter and wife presented an equally chilling glare at one another. "You don't understand how I feel!"

Snow closed her eyes a moment to regain control of her temper. "I understand. I do."

"You should but you don't!" She snapped back leaping to her feet. Suddenly it was hard to breathe. Her corset felt as if it were strangling her chest. She wanted nothing more than to take a knife and slice through all the ribbons. "You are Snow White and Prince Charming for Gods sake! You have been together for over two decades! You have each other every day! Whom do I have?"

"US!" Snow shouted thrusting her seat back. The King winced at the scraping sound the legs made against the marble flooring. "I have watched you spiral for nearly two years Emma! This has to stop!"

"How can you possibly expect me to behave any other way?" Emma drove her fists against the tabletop.

At that, her father cleared his throat. "Emma, you must try-"

"NO, I WILL NOT CALM DOWN!" She swiveled her entire body to face him so fast he jolted in his chair. "All I hear every day is that one day I will be Queen. I am not involved in anything! All you two appear to care about is pairing me up with a suitor as our people are out dying every day to those two deranged maniacs!"

"Emma." Snow growled.

But her warning was disregarded. "I do not want to be married! I do not want to learn the proper way to pour tea or which hair is acceptable to sport in various circumstances. I do not care about these bloody gowns or these insufferable balls! The people do not care if I marry or what I wear! How is that being a leader?"

"People need to see that we do not waver to threats and part of that is continuing to live our lives without fear!" Her mother's normally fair skin was as red as a hot iron. Emma just about saw the steam spouting from her ears. "That includes the balls you mock and the clothes they toil over to make for us! A wedding would bring the people a day of happiness and you-"

"No! I shall not marry anyone! How can you say these things to me after a lifetime of hearing your sickening tales of true love?"

"Your true love is out there, Emma." Her father intervened. "You just need to start searching."

She shook her head at his incredulous statement. They knew nothing. "I am in love with someone who is dead!"

Emma's hands floated to her mouth. A sob bubbled in the back of her throat as a teary mist glossed over her eyes. She had never said it aloud. She had never said it at all.

_Oh Gods._

She realized that she had shared something to everyone before admitting it to herself.

_Oh Gods_.

What was she doing?

Her mother and father both stared at her completely mute. The anger had washed away from Snow's face entirely.

"Emma-" her father reached out to her as the first tear etched a trail down her cheek.

"Fuck!" She wailed out causing both her parents to wince. The tears fell from her now swollen eyes like rain. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." She felt the soft hands of her mother coil around her shoulders. "Don't touch me!" She shifted her body away. "Get away from me!"

She needed air. She needed to be alone. She needed him but he was gone. He was gone. He was-

_You shall see. You will summon me again soon.  
_

The Dark One. She needed the Dark One.

Next thing she knew she was running.

* * *

"Rumplestiltskin!" She cried at the star studded sky. "Rumplestiltskin!"

Emma spun in every direction searching. Nothing. It was only her, the sky, and the sea. "Lets make a deal you sociopath! You lunatic…" Her voice was silenced by the wind. "Almighty Dark One…"

"And here I was enjoying my supper." Came the voice followed by a drawn out hiss. "And who should call but the one person who adamantly swore against it."

Emma collapsed to the earth. The damp grass soaked through the fabric of her dress. She could see mud caking itself around the hem.

"I need to know."

"Know what dearie?" He said bringing his hand to his chin. He circled around her.

_Are you attempting to read me? _She peered up at him.

"You'll have to be more specific. Remember, I am no mind reader." His high-pitched giggling made the hair on her neck erect.

"Lieutenant Jones."

Another shrill giggle. "Ah yes! It's all coming back to me." He bent down on one knee to face her. "Missing. But lost? No. He has very much been found."

Her heart skipped. "Where?"

Tisk. Tisk. Tisk. He waggled a finger in front of her nose. "That's not how this works. What are you willing to give?"

_Anything._ "What do you desire?"

"Free reign." He simpered. "I want the ability to walk freely in your kingdom for as long as your family reigns."

She cocked her head and pondered his words. Everything he said had a hidden meaning. "Free reign to wreck more havoc on my people?"

"No." He gave her a toothy grin. She leaned away repulsed. "Walk. Talk."

"You wish to walk and talk freely in my kingdom?" His voice never wavered. His mannerisms were as confident as their last encounter. She could not get a read on him. She could not gauge if what he spoke were truth or a cleverly spun lie. "Seems unbalanced."

He snickered at that. Something wicked washed over his features. "What do you mean?"

"You desire a lifetime of freedom in my kingdom, and all I receive in return is information on the whereabouts of one man?" She wanted more. She needed more. "I want him here." She thought hard choosing her words carefully. "Alive." She added. "I want you to bring him to me unharmed if you want to make this deal."

He snapped his fingers. "Done." A parchment appeared from thin air along with a quill made from a feather as dark as coal. "Sign dearie, and you'll get exactly what you fancy."

* * *

Grumpy left running the moment after Snow arrived at the servants quarters in a complete state of shock. He should have known something had happened when Emma was late to their training. She was rarely late. If anything she'd be waiting for him to arrive. Damn kid had gone off unarmed and without an escort in the middle of the night.

"EMMA!" He called as he sprinted closer to the cliffs. He was gonna give that kid a piece of his mind. "EMMA!"

What he saw when reaching their secret spot sucked the air right out his lungs. Emma had a quill pressed against parchment the Dark One held firmly against his back.

"No!"

But it was too late the moment her wrist flicked up the contract disappeared. The Dark One bowed before a cloud of purple smoke encompassed the pair.

"EMMA!" Grumpy sprang forward but fell flat on his face in the mud. He located her silhouette through the murky cloud the Dark One had left behind. She was sobbing.

"S-sorry. I-I-I-" She muttered incoherently.

"Emma?" He pushed to his knees.

The air had grown clearer. He could feel his heart breaking at the sight. There she was cradling the head of a still Lieutenant Jones against her chest. Emma was clutching onto him as if her life depended on it.

"Is he-"

He noticed the lieutenants chest rise and fall with a steady rhythm.

_Oh thank Gods._ "He's alive." Grumpy breathed a sigh of relief. The moment was short lived when images of the Dark One came flooding back to his memory. "Emma, what did you do?"

She didn't answer, all she could do was hold him.


	7. Chapter 7

After what felt like hours, Emma tip-toed her way past the palace guard stationed -and finally distracted- in the wing they had taken Lieutenant Jones, and swiftly jogged past three corners to reach his temporary quarters. She smoothed down the frizz in her golden hair and stroked her red cheeks with the tips of her fingers.

Gods she was nervous. Would he be awake? Would he be better?  
She hesitated to knock. Her loose fist hovered beside the wooden door. Her chest swelled in dismay.

_Knock, Emma._ She tried to will herself. _Knock. Why aren't you knocking?_

What if he were still under the notion that she hated him? Furthermore, what if he despised her? So much time had passed where all she had craved was the chance to see his face, and now here she was shrinking behind the door that separated them.

_You can do this._ She inhaled. _All you have to do is-_

Knock. Knock. Knock.

She rapped her fingers against the wood and shut her eyes.

"Come in!"

She exhaled and coiled her hand around the brass knob before slowly turning it and gently pushing the door open.

"Emma."

She held herself in the doorway half her body leaning into his quarters the other half holding back. Her lips thinned, and she could feel her heart beat increasing. He rarely used her name unless she propelled him over his boiling point. She was ever Your Highness or Princess when he addressed her.

"L-l-l-l-" She noticed her hand shaking, and she tightened her hold on the door handle. She attempted to straighten her posture. This couldn't be the way he saw her after two years, she thought. She had become skilled in concealing her emotions; why was it a struggle now?

"Lametenant." She paused. "Hello."

He snickered. "Old habits die hard, Princess." He waved his right hand. "Close the door less you desire to be caught. The guard makes his rounds on the hour." She stepped in and pressed her back against the door using the weight of her body to close it. "I can't imagine you going through the trouble to sneak past guards to see me." He said with a sigh. "And yet, here you are. Perhaps I am dreaming."

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Would your dreams include me?"

"Aye." He answered with a nod. "And nightmares."

At that, she laughed. "More of the latter I presume?"

He didn't answer.

She could feel the flutter of anxiety attempting to destroy her gut. To distract herself, Emma's eyes examined his quarters. There were fresh linens stacked on a desk. His naval uniform had been washed, pressed and laid by their side. One black ribbon was arranged neatly on top of the folded clothes. She scoffed.

"What is so humorous, Your Highness?"

Emma hurried to the desk and clutched the ribbon letting it dangle in-between her fingers. "I'm fond of this when it's in your hair." He chuckled. "I've attempted to tug this thing out more times than I can recollect."

"I won't be requiring it any longer." He replied as he propped himself up into a sitting position. She caught the wince he quickly endeavored to hide. "I asked them to lop off the additional hair once I realized where I was. I am shocked it took you this long though I suppose the guards were a hinderance."

Images of her and Grumpy struggling to carry him from the cliffs flashed in her thoughts.

"You have always excelled at making your presence known in a prompt manner."

His left arm had been slinked over her shoulder as she gripped it with one hand and wrapped her other arm around his waist tugging his weight onto her as she trekked through the slick grass.

"I was certain I'd wake to find you hovering over me." He said shaking his head. "Not in the good way." He added with a chuckle. "You do have two years of being unable to torture me."

She had slipped and heard something crack. Her frantic eyes scanned over his body as Grumpy pulled at the lieutenant's torso to get them back up.

"Thankfully I'm out of uniform at the moment. I'm sorry Princess, but you'll find it harder to drag me to your sinister plots without my cravat."

She frowned before scrunching her nose. "Shame. It was one of the easier ways to tease you."

He let his eyes fall to his side. "I have plenty of nicks and bruises to deal with at the moment."

She let the ribbon drop from her hold.

"Princess?"

He had been unconscious for five days. Her mind whirled with questions. What had happened? Where had he been? Who had found him? How did Rumplestiltskin get him to her so quickly? Why was he struggling so hard to appear … normal?

"Are you alright? You look as if you've seen a ghost."

Emma swallowed hard. "Please don't say that." She brought her hand to her forehead and dipped into it. She could feel her eyes as they started to gloss over. Her breathing was speeding up into frantic short breaths. "As much as I abhor you… I never wished any harm on you."

The first tear trailed down her cheek and burned. She lost control of the despair that encompassed her and began to shake once more. "I thought you had died." She whispered followed by a sob. "I could not bear it."

Her vision was a blurry swirl of dull color. White and blue and grey clouded her sight. She bit her lip to silence herself. She clamped down until she tasted iron on her tongue.

"I-I-I-" she stammered before one more sob emerged. "I waited for you every day hoping I'd see your stupid ship sailing on the horizon."

Two years. She had held this in for two long years. She had kept hope he would return until the day-

"I spied on my parents and their advisors. The Jewel had gone missing. All I thought of was the last thing I said to you. I regretted it every bloody day."

"Bloody?" He intervened. The inflection in his voice had changed.

"BLOODY!" She wailed rubbing the tears from her eyes with her fist. "I missed your presence so much I began to talk like you. I have been scolded a myriad of times for swearing. I struggled."

"With what?" He asked his voice a throaty whisper.

She was nervous. She couldn't say what she ached to say. "That I do not hate you. I cannot fathom going through the rest of my life without having told you that."

"Isn't this touching?" He had appeared on the window seat without a sound. A cocky smirk expanding from ear to ear. "Reunited at last!"

The Dark One. Her body tensed as her eyes flew toward Killian. Something dark blanketed his features.

"What are you doing here?" She seethed at the imp.

"I have free reign, Your Highness. I can be wherever I please."

Emma's gasped. _No. No. No._

"Oh yes." He sang. "Yes. Yes. Yes." He let the tip of his tongue slide out his lips as he swung his legs over the window seat and happily descended to the floor.

"Princess." The lieutenant strived to remove himself from the bed. He grunted immediately upon his unsteady legs hitting the ground. "He's a demon. Run."

The Dark One feigned being insulted. "Honestly is this how you welcome me after all I've done? Lieutenant Jones you wound me."

"Get out!" Emma hissed. "Get out or I'll scream."

"Ah, but you see-" he pointed a finger in the air and slid toward her. "You can't. Part of our deal."

"Deal?" The lieutenant slowly moved toward Emma; each step he took was visibly painful. "What deal?"

"Oh!" He jumped in amusement. "You haven't told him? Nobody told him? Oh this is good. This is really good." He clasped his hands together. "Go on and tell him dearie. Tell him how he was rescued."

Emma turned her head away from him hoping she wouldn't have to see the disappointment in Killian's face. "Why are you here?" She managed to ask.

"To watch you squirm."

She tried to disregard the burning sensation in the back of her throat. She tried to ignore the lieutenant who was nearly at her side. Why was he reaching for her? Why was he striving to guard her when he was severely injured?

"I made a deal." She said trying to appear calm and collected. "You and your safety for him to able to walk freely in my kingdom."

"Why?" He asked as his arm touched her shoulder. The pressure sent a pulse throughout her body. "Why would you do that?"

"Would you prefer the alternative Lieutenant Jones?" The Dark One chimed in. "Another etch on the wall for another day in the dungeon."

Emma gasped. "Dungeon?"

"How many days? 100?" Rumplestiltskin tapped a finger to his lips as he sauntered closer to the pair. "150?"

_No._

Emma's knees gave in. She would have fallen if not for him clutching onto her.

"Don't worry." Killian said into her ear.

_All the bruises_, she thought clamping her eyes shut. _Did the Dark One do this to him?_

"I did! Reckless of you to have waited so long to call, Your Highness. 200 days?" Rumpletstiltskin simpered. "Am I getting warmer lieutenant?"

Emma felt his grip tighten around her shoulder.

"Funny to see you mum. I could hardly ever get you to shut up."

Emma trembled as she balled up her fists. "Get out!" She demanded. "Get out of here! GUARDS!"

The Dark One rolled his eyes. "Do that again and I'll snap your neck. Listen Princess and listen well: I will shred this kingdom apart from the inside out if I do not receive what is mine."

"You cannot provoke destruction." Emma stepped forward challenging the dark cores of his eyes with her own. "Walk and talk; remember?"

"Here-" he gestured around the room. "You're unquestionably right. But in my kingdom I can do as I please. I will take everyone you and your family loves and grind their hearts in my palm until they're nothing more than dust." He pointedly fixed his gaze on Lieutenant Jones. "Starting with your brother."

_Captain Jones. Oh Gods._

_"_You don't have Liam!" He growled. "He was taken long before you arrived on the Jewel!"

Rumplestiltskin smiled grimly at the lieutenant's outburst of anger. "I don't, but Regina does."

Emma concentrated on his face. Everything was hard. Nothing in his voice wavered. He gave no impression that he were deceiving them.

_No,_ she thought. _No, it can't be._

"The war…" She gasped. She hoped that she was wrong. "What are you two fighting for?"

"There's a reason your parents kept you in the dark, Your Highness. They would have nothing to worry about as long as you were ignorant to the gravity of the situation. They stole from me." Emma's head was spinning. "Regina and I are not at battling with each other."

She grimaced. "My kingdom."

"I suggest you get me what I want." He shuffled past the pair. "Or I'll pick them off one by one until you're all alone in this world." He snapped his fingers and vanished into a purple haze.

Emma couldn't think straight. Her head felt as heavy as a rock. The air was thick, and the walls were twirling around her. What did her parents take?

"Princess?" His voice echoed in her ears.

"I am a fool." she uttered tearing apart from his hold and toppling toward the door. She tumbled over her own foot and smacked her fists against the tile. "I only thought about myself when I made that deal. I loved you so much…" Her voice broke. "I couldn't bear to be in pain another moment."

His eyes stretched wide.

"Now everyone will burn. And it will be all my fault."


	8. Chapter 8

"I don't understand the need for a military escort." He grumbled. Judging by the pointed look he received from his Captain, he knew he had heard it. "My first job as your Lieutenant is to be an au pair."

"An au pair?" Liam's brow furrowed in perplexity. "Surely you jest, little brother, for I do not think a man who places such an emphasis on 'good form' would speak in such an ill way of his kingdom's Princess."

They had arrived at the docks midday when the sun was blazing hot. It heat burned the dark colors of his uniform. He felt like a bloody stove as sweat accumulated in the most appalling places which made the day seem to stretch longer. As much as his brother had hyped up the royal family -fair and good- his initial impression of them would be the lack of consideration for wasting the time of others. They were late. Hours late.  
His attention shifted entirely on his Captain. Liam was not as perturbed as he. He had merrily hummed a most atrocious sea shanty as the crew loitered around like fish in a cramped barrel.

"You are in high spirits brother." Killian said huffily.

"I am overpowered with joy to have you by my side." He replied his face beaming with pride. Killian gave a pleased look. His brother returned it with a simper of his own and walked forward with his hands outstretched. "At long last."

Killian was jostled by the embrace and promptly moved to amend his hat, which had just about fallen from his head. "How is it that you remain in such high spirits when our first voyage together has been-" he took some time to consider his words. "We're off schedule."

Liam waved away his grievances. "I allocated time for this exact circumstance. No need to worry."

Killian face furrowed in confusion. "Is this a regular happening?"

"I expect you to be on your best behavior." Liam disregarded his question completely and planted his hands on Killian's shoulders giving them a firm squeeze; he glanced downward at his brother with a rather pressing look. "Remember little brother: she is a princess."

Killian rolled his eyes. Surely he was joking. Was his brother honestly giving him a talk about minding a child?

"Bugger off, Liam." He mumbled under his breath.

"I only thought to warn you to avoid scandal."

He snorted. "What?"

"Cap 'n!" Their attention was drawn toward the sailor stationed in the crows nest. "Carriage is upon us, sir!"

"Excellent." Liam hollered to the crew bringing both his hands behind his back and straightening his posture. "Everyone to the deck!"

The short minutes that passed after were a blur.

"Killian." He turned to answer his brother who had a gleaming smile from ear to ear. "She's a wild one. If you're not careful, Princess Emma will knock the wind right out of you. The lass practically gave me an ulcer the last time we had to escort her."

"How hard is it to rear a child?" He commented.

Liam laughed wholeheartedly. "Your ignorance shall be your downfall."

* * *

He was panting.

He woke up in darkness, and his hand clenched the sheets draped around him to be sure he was no longer dreaming. His quarters were drafty in the nights as he could never bring himself to close the window. He shivered from the way the way the cool air smacked against the droplets of sweat that had beaded their way across his skin. Killian brought a hand to his head and wiped his brow. Another dream of Liam; he slammed his fist onto the mattress.

Liam was out there, and he was a bloody invalid confined to a bed.  
He closed his eyes, and that rotten toothy grin overtook his senses causing him to startle.

"You're in the palace." He told himself swallowing. He took a long breath and blew it out slowly. How he managed to sleep was a mystery. Most nights were plagued with the images of stone, straw, dirtied hands, and chalk. Still he couldn't say which nights were worse: the ones with torture or the ones remembering his brother. Liam was gone, and the guilt of being able to do nothing ruined him.

_Where is the lovely Princess?_ Liam's voice carried through the darkness; an echo from the past that was so vivid he hurriedly scanned the quarters swearing his brother were before him.

"I don't know."

_Has she got away from you again?_ The laughter. Gods, the laughter is as harsh as a fresh wound.

"What is so funny?"

His question went unanswered.

Killian was indignant upon being laughed at. Emma was the first storm he was unable to outrun. He remembers the air being pulled from his lungs when he first set eyes on her. 16. Definitely not six. How Liam led him on for so long was downright-

He sighed. Emma. He can still recall the way she lingered on the gangplank as the wind swept her hair behind her. When introduced, she curtseyed with a faint smile, and he bowed. Their eyes clashed once upright. They stayed that way a moment before she scrunched up her nose and snorted.

"Oh shit." She had muttered before taking a step back.

Killian had observed with curious eyes as his brother received Queen Snow and King David. The gestures were far from proper, and unlike any he had toiled over and practiced countless times alone. The King had patted his brother on the back and pulled him in by their handshake to a firm embrace. The Queen had mirrored her husband. Now the King who he had grown so fond of watched him guardedly. Perhaps it was the circumstances of the return.

The Dark One and the King's daughter had thrown a wrench into their secret. He had spent 189 days in a cell fighting to hold his tongue for his King. He had suffered for being the honorable man. And for what? To lose his brother to a war. His blind loyalty had been corroded by his King's secrets. Something sour resonated in his mouth.

_Ah, there she is._

"Lieutenant?" Came the hoarse whisper. He turned his eyes toward the window. Standing there pulling the hood from her long billowing cloak was Emma. When had she arrived? "Are you awake?"

"Aye."

"I snuck out." Her feet plopped hard on the flooring. Killian jumped up, startled although he saw it as it occurred. Emma's eyes fell to her boots. Guilt overcame her briefly before she masked it over with a lazy smirk. He knew her better than he ever dared to admit.

"I gathered as much, Your Highness." He did his best to keep up appearances. Don't let her see the way you struggle. Keep calm. Collect yourself. Conceal the demons tugging at your last thread of sanity. "He'll kill me." She winced. "Your father." He hastily added.

She stiffened at the mention. "They can't keep me locked up forever."  
His ears perked up. She had been locked up? For how long? How much time had passed since their dance with the devil?

"I have years of practice sneaking away."

"I'm well aware." He grumbled recalling several times he had caught her sneaking off. "It's still dangerous."

"I can handle myself." She snapped, turning toward him. Emma made her way to the bed and crouched down beside him propping her elbows on the mattress. "You look awful," she went on. "I dare say it's the lack of ponytail."

He smiled. "Perhaps the word you were searching for was dashing."

"Will the ponytail make a reoccurrence in the near future?"

He shook his head.

"No?" She grinned. "Then the word I meant was certainly awful."

Silence fell between them. This is how they had always been. They'd hide messages beneath cleverly veiled insults. The familiarity of it all soothed his soul. Still, even now in her presence, he felt like a nervous git.

"I wont be in bandages forever." He quipped in a feeble attempt to lighten the air that had grown awkward.

"I- I have to say, Lieutenant that I rather enjoy you on your back," she said hesitantly as her cheeks pinked. "I, uh, I-" She poked his arm. "Will you be strong enough to…" She bit her lip and let her eyes fall to the sheets. "I-"

He could see the battle raging on her face; her green eyes would widen in shock then fall into a contorted look of confusion mixed with disgust.

Killian cleared his throat. "Your Highness."

"That's not what I meant!" She interrupted pulling a strand of lose hair from her face. "What I actually meant to say was-" Their eyes locked, and he could feel the goose bumps on his forearm. "This was far easier a conversation in my head." She gasped and brought her fingers to pinch the bridge of her nose. "No! That's not what I meant either. I'm not mad. I didn't rehearse this."

"Your Highness." He tried again, but Emma said "shh!"

She leapt to her feet. "Are you thirsty? I'll fetch you some water."

"Emma."

He reached forward and laid his hand on hers. She jolted as he pulled her back down.

"W-what are you doing?" She stuttered. "Lieutenant?"

"There wasn't a day that passed where I didn't think of you."

"Of me?" She asked in a terrified whisper. "But I was so horrible."

He smirked. "Aye. As was I."

"No… oh no… oh no, no I was." Her lips thinned, and he tightened his grip.

"After you LIED to Liam that I fondled the kitchen maid, I told Doc about the flask stashed in-"

"That was you!?" She narrowed her eyes.

"Aye." He looked at her half-amused half-exasperated, and Emma could feel the bubble of a laugh in the back of her throat. She took her free hand and pulled another lock of her hair behind her ear in an effort to keep it down. "Are you honestly going to get upset now? That was three or four bloody years ago!"

She tilted her head back as her lips curved into a playful smile. "I couldn't help myself."

He smirked before pulling her hand so that she was leaning over his chest. Emma gasped. "I wanted to tell you that night before I left that I would think of you often."

Her eyes fluttered at the proximity. Everything around her blurred except his face. Her heart was beating so hard she could hear it's thudding in her ears. She swallowed hard. "W-why?"

"Because I realized that I was in love with you."

She let go of his hand and took a deep breath as she gazed into his eyes in wonder. Emma grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled her face to meet his. Gently she pecked him on the lips. Once. Twice. The third time she felt his arms wrap around her waist. Her cheeks burned hot as she let herself crash against his body. He kissed her back tightening his embrace and sighing into her lips.

Emma pulled back. "Can I-" she pecked his lips. "Stay-" his hand trailed up her spine to rest on the back of her neck. "Tonight?" He deepened the kiss and her body pressed harder against his.

"Stay?" He rubbed circles into the small of her back. "Yes. Absolutely." She let her fingers slide up the stubble of his neck before reaching his cheek. Her other hand made its way to his hair, and she gave it a firm tug. He grinned before kissing her once more. "Stay." He moaned when she nipped on the bottom of his lip. "How?" Reality whisked away the blissful cloud that had covered his judgment. "The guards do their rounds every hour. I'm still…" His voice trailed off as he clamped his eyes shut.

"Please let me lay here with you."

"If they discover us-"

"I'll take care of it." She whispered, carefully moving off him and placing herself by his left side. She laid her head on the pillow and let her hand rest on his. He was an adventure she was ready to explore, and it started with the briefest touch of her fingertips. "I'll take care of everything. I promise."

He let his fingers lace with hers.

* * *

The parchment beside him was a rash plea of forgiveness, stupidly disguised as a goodbye.

_I have to fix this. I'm sorry._  
_-Emma_

Seven words stretched him to his boiling point. He was a bloody fool. The last thing she had whispered in the obscurity was,_ I'll take care of it_. He should have known better. He should of bloody known she wasn't referring to the guards. She had gone to THEM, of that he was certain.

Killian leaned back on his elbows and stretched out his legs grimacing from the discomfort, mentally preparing himself for what he was about to do.

When he closed his eyes, he saw the smiling face of his brother. His hand balled up into a fist.

"Rumplestiltskin!"

When the guards came, all that was left was a note, and sordid bandages thrown carelessly to the floor.


	9. Chapter 9

"I hate this forest."

It had been half a day since she crossed the border of her kingdom; three long days on foot only to be greeted by stormy skies in the neighboring kingdom of the south. Of course, it had begun to rain because that was her luck. The upside was it would thankfully take care of tracks. But it also meant mud; she was in squishy ankle deep mud, and it was cold. Gods, it was cold. It had gotten worse with each passing hour. It was now at the point where she could see her own breath in the air. And she was without much more than the canteen slung around her shoulder and the cloak on her back. It dawned on her that she hadn't thought this through well. That's when the string of colorful curses began.

She tried to spot the sky through the canopy of trees as she cursed at the Gods. The rain blanketed everything above her.

"Is this punishment for being an idiot?" She yelled at the sky.

No answer.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!" She trenched on until her left boot wedged between two rocks. This was supposed to be a five day journey. The rain would set her back at least another day or two perhaps even three. She'd also have to find a suitable place to sleep. She shuddered at the thought. Sherwood Forest was not somewhere she ever planned to lay her head. Bad blood had long existed between her kingdom and that of Prince John of Nottingham. Seeing as he was the only living relative of King George, well, it was to be expected.

The fog rolled in blinding her line of sight. She wanted to cry. Here she was standing in the pouring rain freezing her ass off with her foot stuck. She REALLY didn't think this through. Getting her boot out took more strength than she anticipated. When it pulled free, she stumbled to her right where her knee jarred against the side of a large stump.

"GODS DAMNIT!" She let out a shrill hiss. Had half a mind to kick that stump till her face turned blue. "Fuck you." She glared at the two rocks. "And you too!" She shouted up at the sky. "And especially you!" She seethed at the stump. "I hate this place!"

Sherwood Forest was familiar to her in tall-tales told by the dwarves and the occasional warning from her parents whenever the neighboring kingdom had been brought up in casual conversation. The forest circled around the kingdom of Nottingham and provided protection from the Dark One's kingdom to the west, and the Evil Queen's kingdom to the east. Throughout her life, she'd listen in as Grumpy'd reminisce his and her mother's adventures hiding from the Evil Queen in these woods.

"Rats as big as a dwarf." He had slurred one night after their sword lesson before finishing off whatever lined the inside of his flask. "Rivers of fire."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Rivers of fire, my ass. You honestly expect me to believe there are rodents five feet tall?"

Grumpy nodded. "You better believe it sister."

She scoffed at the memory and wrinkled her nose. "Yeah Grumpy, it's a real nightmare."

So far the most vicious thing she had encountered was the blood thirsty stump that sought to remove her leg when it magically appeared from thin air. The forest was nowhere near what any of her godfathers had described. She had yet to spot any rodents as large as a dwarf. No sign of any rivers of fire. Just trees, mud, and rain clouded darkness.

For all the warnings she recieved about the surrounding forest, Emma was pretty much in the dark when it came to Nottingham. All she really knew for sure was it was the only neutral kingdom from the raging war on the continent. And yet abstaining did nothing to help its citizens. Many in Nottingham were living in poverty as they were being outrageously taxed by their Prince. Those who failed to pay were publicly humiliated and then jailed.

There had even been an execution. A few years ago, she had overheard Lieutenant Jones discussing an absurd law with her father and-

She swallowed hard.

"Killian." She whispered his name.

He had been sleeping when she peppered his forehead with gentle kisses. She knew he'd understand the note; Gods, if he were able to he'd come after her. It wouldn't be the first time he followed or found her. Emma had run off more times than she could remember, but never this far. Never past the border of her kingdom. The war gave her an advantage. There would be no carrier birds sent out with messages to say she had gone missing. News would have to be done carefully on foot. In a kingdom she'd never seen, she'd hoped that this would mean she would not meet anyone who'd recognize her face. Tracking her would be damn near impossible. At least, she hoped so.

He had to of been angry with her. Thoughts of him being unable to meet her eyes as his eyebrows bunched together and his lips thinned and pursed and… she could imagine that look because she'd seen it before. It was the look he gave her when he was upset. For all the years of bickering, to actually upset the Lieutenant was rare. Getting on the Lieutenant's nerves was one thing, a thing she had become particularly skilled at, but to upset him… The first time it happened, she ran away from him. Hid in her bed chamber till his ship sailed into the horizon. She cried the entire night.

Once upon a time Emma'd lie through gritted teeth to anyone who asked if the Lieutenant's opinion of her mattered. It always did, even if she'd never admitted it. And it made her throat dry and stomach clench to know that when he woke up without her that morning he'd be hurt. Even more so that he'd be disappointed she'd be so reckless. She knew it. This was dangerous, but she needed to save everyone.

If the roles were reversed Emma would never forgive him. She shook her head at the thought.

"Liar." She drawled out with a sad smile. She would. She would forgive him, but she'd make him suffer for letting her worry.

Suffer. She cringed. What did Rumplestiltskin do to him? Killian had been locked up in a cage. Or a dungeon. Maybe something worse.

"Fuck this forest."

She could barely see two feet in front of her own face through the rain. The world tilted around her as she paused to gather the tumultuous emotions that had screamed their way into the center of her already clouded mind. Letting them bleed freely in the woods would not help her. Help her… help him.

What did Regina do to Captain Jones?

She peered into the rainy darkness trying to catch a glimpse of anything. But instead of moving forward the lump that had formed in the back of her throat got the best of her. "I hate this place." She croaked out wanting to pinch her cheeks. She wanted to numb the sadness that pooled in her insides. "So fucking much."

What would Regina do to her when she offered herself as a trade?

Every limb in her body caved. Emma frowned as she slumped down against the evil leg-vicious stump letting her head thump against it. She glanced down at her boots. Her feet throbbed. This was the most she had ever walked in her life. The fiery burn that ached on her heels would have to wait. She had worn enough uncomfortable shoes in her life to know once you took them off the swelling wouldn't let you get them back on. Everything would have to wait because she had to get up and carry forward. She had to reach the edge of this damn place. She had to save his brother… had to save her family… most of all, she had to save her people. The people in her kingdom needed her. This stupid war, and the lies and the danger she put all her loved ones in needed to end. It all needed to end.

"Why can't you get yourself up, Princess?" She sobbed. Emma closed her eyes and tried to believe she was home. Thankfully the rain made her tears indistinguishable. "You have to save everyone. Get up."

Was it this easy for everyone to lose control of their life? She felt disconnected and the more she tried to fix things the more she felt like she was drowning. If only she could bury the panic that squeezed her chest. Killian, she reminded herself as thunder clapped above her, only has his brother. Killian needs his brother. "You need to give your people a reason to feel safe."

Maybe in another life you could of had him. Been good enough to even show him how much you love him without all this-

Emma rubbed her palms up and down her face smacking her cheeks before pulling herself up.

"You can do this." She grumbled taking a shaky first step forward. "You can bring the people you care about some kind of happiness."

Maybe one day, you'll be able to start over. Find happiness with the Lieutenant. She chuckled at the thought. Her mind was at war with itself. A never ending loop of her desires and self-loathing.

"You can save his brother." She told herself taking in a deep breath. Happiness wasn't in her cards anymore. This was her mistake to fix. She tried to imagine a time before everything became so complicated. A day before that damn bell rang.

Would they have ever found happiness if that damn bell never rang?

* * *

AROUND FOUR YEARS AGO

"You can't say no!" Emma said bringing the stein to her lips and sharing the devious twinkle in her eyes with the several men who surrounded her at the bar. "Gentlemen, please, I am the Princess after all. How could you possibly say no to your Princess?" She pouted and then threw in a wink. The tavern erupted into laughter. Even she ended up snorting into her drink. The bubbles of the amber ale tickled against her tongue as she took another sip.

If there was one good thing that came out of her embarrassing encounter last summer on the Jewel it was Phillip introducing her to the wonderful world of alcohol. Alcohol had become a new way to escape all the pressures and burdens a girl her age should never of had to carry in the first place. Getting her hands on it was tricky, but she managed. Tipping the castle guards extra coins worked until her mother found the bottles stashed in her linens. After that it was few and far between with the boring balls. Prying eyes made that a challenge.

It had been a two day journey into the country that brought her to this establishment. The barmaid had dropped the stein she had been carrying when first spotting her. To be honest, she was disappointed that even this far out in the country she was immediately recognized. This was the farthest she had ever gone, and her hopes of a night without the title were lost on arrival. Now she sat idly joking about the title she hated to be called more than anything.

She could never be only Emma. To everyone, she was always the Princess first. And Gods she hated it. She hated it so fucking much.

"I'm surveying the many towns of the kingdom. Greeting the people." She had said. It was the first thing to come to her mind. They never questioned it. Everyone appeared to buy it, and before she knew it alcohol was being handed to her left and right. The problems she had ran from slipped away as the bubbles and laughter drifted her into a much needed comfortable night.

"Where is your escort, Your Highness?" A portly man asked as he downed the remainder of his drink.

Emma's body tensed. "Where indeed? It seems he's wandered off." She laughed. "I'm sure he can't be far off."

"Fear not, Your Highness." Emma spit her drink back in her cup. "I've returned."

Oh no.

She glanced over her shoulder to see him standing there adorning the fakest smile she had ever seen on his smug face. He was without the uniform. How long had he been standing there? How long had he been watching her? She wanted to groan, but for appearance sake flashed a toothy grin.

"Oh there you are!" She said with a laugh. "Care to join us?"

"I'm afraid we must be on our way for the evening, Your Highness." The men all groaned. "We have quite the journey ahead of us."

"Indeed." Emma said sliding her drink across the bar. She pulled several gold coins from her coin purse and stacked them in the barmaids hand. "Shall we?"

He nodded.

"You're getting better at hiding your tracks, Your Highness." She rolled her eyes. She didn't even want to look at his face because she was sure he was beaming with pride that he found her… AGAIN. "However it was easy to find you with your predictable behavior."

Emma scoffed. "I didn't ask for your opinion on my behavior, Lametenant."

"Aye, just as I didn't ask to go trekking along the countryside for two days."

The horses had come to a stop. The Lieutenant had made his way off his and extended a hand in a peaceful gesture to assist her down. She flicked it away and jumped down on her own landing ungracefully in a pile of loose dirt. She coughed briefly. "Why are we stopping here?"

"To rest." He announced pulling supplies from his horse. "It would be unwise to continue onward for much longer with no light. It's my duty to bring you home safely."

"We could have stayed at the Inn in that town." She said.

"No, we could not. You are going home, and it's my job to do that in a prompt manner. A town has many places for you to wander off to. To hide in."

"Why are you here? You don't even need to be here!" Home was the last place she wanted to be. She had no desire to face any of them not after-

"I-" She choked on her words. Tears started to work their way out of her eyelashes. "They only sent you to humiliate me knowing how much I dislike you!"

"They sent me because I am able to find you. Given this is the third time this year you've run off, which I'll note, have all occurred when I am on my leave." The Lieutenant folded his arms and looked away from her. Tension was visible in his shoulders. "There's no need to-"

"To what?" She snapped frivolously wiping her eyes. "I can cry if I damn well please! Don't you dare tell me how to feel!"

"You're intoxicated." He murmured.

"I only wanted time away from my obligations. Why must-"

"It's dangerous." He interrupted. "Need I remind you the price on your head from our colorful neighbors to the south?"

There was no retort. When she pulled her arm away from her eyes, the Lieutenant was already at work setting up a camp.

"Do you understand me at all?" She hissed expecting a snarky reply. None came. He busily worked on laying out linen and clearing rocks and fallen tree limbs from the area.

Emma shivered next to the small fire.

"How did you manage to get as far as you did so quickly?" His voice broke an uncomfortable silence the two had kept up for several hours.

Her head spun to see him leaning against the trunk of a large tree. "A carriage. I snuck on a carriage."

"And they failed to notice a stowaway?" He asked as his eyebrow lifted. Clearly he saw through her lie.

Emma smiled. "Nobody would turn away their kingdom's Princess or ten gold pieces. Getting away is always easy."

The Lieutenant shook his head. "What happened this time? It's not just wanting a night on the town. You wouldn't of come this far for that."

Emma flinched. The way he read her didn't sit well in her stomach. His all knowing eyes searched her face for the answer. She sighed. "I hate that."

His brow knitted together in confusion. "Clarify, if you will."

"You can't do that. You can't just expect an answer."

"I'm sure I'll find out one way or another. Word will eventually reach this far out that you've run off again. The entire kingdom will search for you until you arrive safely at the palace." He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. "You mention being free from your obligations but-" He paused briefly to contemplate his words. "Our obligations are apart of who we are. I cannot say no to finding you when asked by my King."

"Maybe I don't want to be a Princess." She snapped. "I don't need another lecture on how I have disappointed everyone with my shortcomings yet again."

"This is not a lecture, Your Highness." He replied.

"Right, Lametenant. What is it then? Advice? You are the last person I'd ever want to have this conversation with."

The had only known each other a little over a year, but Gods he got under her skin.

"And you are the last person I want to interrupt my leave. This is supposed to be my holiday. Bloody hell."

She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks. "You could of said no."

He rolled his eyes. "Aye, that would have went over well with my brother and His Majesty."

"It isn't your job to watch over me! Haven't you caused enough problems in my life?"

He snickered. "Not as many as you've caused in mine, Your Highness."

Emma's ears were ringing. Everything felt hot. She couldn't take the pressure that had been building in her chest anymore. She popped.

"Advisors mentioned the prospects an arranged marriage would bring." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "My parents just sat there and listened without saying a word. I left immediately. They might not of even known I had overheard. I wasn't supposed to be there in the first place."

"Your family would never-" He froze. "As often as they speak of true love and such at all those bloody balls."

Emma snorted. "Yeah well, people are full of surprises. Like how I am telling you this in the first place."

He cocked his head. "I doubt your assumptions on that are correct, Your Highness."

"I didn't ask for your opinion."

"Well, you're bloody well getting it." He replied. Her eye twitched. His entire demeanor had changed. The stiff angry and annoyed Lieutenant had something unrecognizable etched in his features. "Talk to your parents."

Emma groaned. "Will you shut up, Lametenant?"

"Your parents love you." He said ignoring her huffing. "They'd never force you to-"

"Fuuuuuuucccckkkkk." She got up from her seat on the ground peeling her cloak from around her. In anger, she balled it up and tossed it away from the fire. "Stop. Please. I don't want to talk about this."

"-marry anyone." He continued. "They have yet to have you meet any potential suitors."

Emma gave an encore of curses. "How do you ever know that?"

"I am a lieutenant in His Majesty's royal navy." She rolled her eyes. What in seven hells did that have to do with anything she had just asked? "The entire kingdom would know when their Princess would have suitors come to court her." His voice was harsh. "Even a lowly sailor."

"Oh so now you're just a sailor?" She found a stone she had noticed when pacing about. She kicked it towards the fire. "You shove your damn title down my throat every time our paths intersect."

"I worked hard to get to where I am." He said narrowing his eyes.

"Oh dear Gods I need to go to sleep. I can't take anymore of-" her hand gestured to him, "-this."

She hated him. Gods she hated him. She had the way he stupidly held himself when preaching to her about her life. He didn't understand anything about her life.

"Expect my free opinion each time you run off." He chimed as Emma whined to herself with her back facing him. "Because I will always find you."

"I shall never run off again!" She called out accompanied by a string of curses. "Please tell me your leave ends soon."

"Not for another three weeks."

"You ruin everything!" She shouted.

Emma caught as he cursed unobtrusively in the background.

* * *

She was jolted awake by a thunderous shriek.

"What the fuck was that?" She panted out as she grabbed her chest. The rain had let up. Above her, the trees stirred; the air seemed heavy with every gulp. Something didn't sit right, and her instincts screeched that it was time to go.

Time to get up Emma. Time to move. You need to move now.

She lunged for her canteen slinging the strap over her shoulder. Another screech filled the sky, and she vaulted to her feet. Slowly she slid through the trees attentive to every step.

You have to be quiet, Emma.

She held her breath for as long as she could fearing that even her breathing would attract whatever was bellowing in the distance.

He could of teleported you there, she tells herself nicking her arm on the corner of a jagged branch. It was always an option.

"Yeah." She sniggered. "But you would never forgive yourself, Princess. No time to be laughing now."

She gasped when something behind her snapped. She peered over her shoulder. Nothing.

Time to pick up the pace, Princess.

Emma sprang to run. She dodged obstructions in her way, but each step rang a muddy pop. Every noise made her cringe. She had to get out of the damn woods. She had to get out before whatever it was made sure she wouldn't.

Something landed behind her. Something so large that the force toppled her entire body forward.

There was a growl.

Suddenly the dwarves tall-tales didn't seem absurd.


End file.
